


A Letter from The Village Of Mushrooms

by ZabiHakuhei



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Incest, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZabiHakuhei/pseuds/ZabiHakuhei
Summary: Live can be a rollercoaster, filled with ups and downs, and for a girl used to see the half-empty glass, the meeting of an unexpected person will flip the way she treats her own dreams and expectations, for better or the worse, she departs to a small and strange adventure.





	A Letter from The Village Of Mushrooms

_“In this world, you don’t have that many chances in life”_ It’s a thought that chases Simone as she gets off a bike with a man, she was 22 years old and passing by a moral crisis. —Mushroom, time for a test. — The man sighed when taking off his helmet, the girl of long black hair and a gloomy look replied with a bitter fix of her lips, Emil ignored her reaction and took off his gloves, leaving the helmet in the back of the monstrous vehicle, —Describe me the scenario of our trip until this moment. — He orders with a swirl of his index finger, walking out of the parking lot in the shores of a small town near the ocean, the girl quickly follows him from behind, walking down pebble stone stairs into a white-sand beach. —Is it ok to leave your bike like that? You didn’t even pull the key! — The girl shouts in acute anxiety. —Everyone here knows that’s my bike, nobody is that stupid to steal it, here, take off your shoes. — He explains with a condescending smile and stops at the last ladder, scratching his finger in the ankle to remove a shoe, the girl looks back the unattended bike, her mouth like a crumbled zipper, loud mumbles of anxiety as she sits on the stones and fights to take off her shoes.

Stepping inside the sand, Emil hides his smile when watching the girl calm down and play with the white grains between her toes, extending his arm Simone shrugs again, shyly holding hands with him with two fingers, walking along with the sounds of waves breaking in the rocks, —So? When are you going to start? — The man wonders with a bit of anger at the end, you can hear the girl shout another acute anxious reaction, looking down at the sand makes her abundant hair cover her face like a heavy black curtain, using her free hand to fix it behind her shoulders she looks for the strength to speak. —We departed early morning, around 4am — she began narrating, Emil stood quiet, waiting, —I was barely awake and tired but you kept bumping and telling me to hurry up, I ran with the small purse of things you made me do, a change of clothes and a toothbrush, you said there wasn’t time to drink coffee and I really needed it, so Rebecca gave me some — She looks up to him when saying the last part, almost as she could predict it, Emil snorts and looks back at her, raising an eyebrow. —She did? — He asked with a giggle, the other replied with a silent nod and continued. —Then, she threatened me. — Simone makes her best effort to say this in the lowest and hurtful tone, Emil laughing stops at the second, —She warned me… if I tried to hit on you while she was absent she would make me pay for it. — This time she goes back to look down, the curtain rises again, Emil groans and rubs the back of his neck. — Don’t let her get you, that’s how she is… and nothing is going to happen — He answers awkwardly, the thought of her fiancée doing that rubs him off, —Please continue. — He then adds with a sigh. —Well, we went out of the apartment, the sky was… light blue from the near sunrise… they matched with the lights on the streets, even though they were blinding me in the way. —The breeze interrupted her this time, shivering like a little child, she had a jacket over a cotton sweater and still wasn’t enough, she inhales in a runny nose from the cold, —I was… scared of your bike, is like a bull turned into a machine, I spent most of the trip scared to fall… there was a humid smell from the snow-melt of winter into the dirt and ground, the vapor of the sewers as we drove by… then the smell of wet grass when we went into the highway… did you ever worry about the black ice thingy? — Her worried side pop-ups again, the man nods, Simone breaths deeply, frustrated from the thought of crashing yet continues. —When I saw this town at the shore and felt the salty smell in my nose I felt… happy — She uses her free hand to hide her smiling face, gazing into the ocean the tiny peak of light budging from far away. —the thought of going to the beach in winter was vexing, but I liked the idea of the lack of tourists and fairs… I hate crowded spaces. — there’s bitterness at the end of her sentence, Emil agrees he’s aware of that thought of hers.

— Did Rebecca tell you she spent most of her infancy in this town? — He wonders as they reach a wide blank space of sand, a concrete wall with long fancy stairs that give entrance into the boulevard of the town, small food stalls already spreading the unmistakable smell and sound of fried food, the stomach of Simone hurling right away. —Here, go with the lady of the corner and pick breakfast for both of us, also coffee, and also... that was a good narration. — Emil parts hands with her and looks for his wallet, handing the girl some cash, she giggles without a trace of shame and runs lifting sand on the way to the stalls, like a dog trying to catch a frisbee, the man looks at her go with a smile, leaving his and her shoes to a side, he sits on the sand, looking at the growing sunrise, bringing his phone to take a picture of the ocean and send it with a text to his fiancée, the girl quickly coming back with two plastic cups of coffee and a carton box with deep-fried yams. —We gof af time fof the funrise! — Simone babbles with her mouth stuffed in piping hot yam, making Emil snort when receiving the coffee cup, placing the box between them they sit watching the first rays of light bask into the white sand, —That old woman says she knows you — the girl randomly spouts after a sip of her coffee, shaking her head to move her hair away from her mouth as she eats. —Yeah, I have come here a couple of times with Rebecca, the house we’re staying in is also hers. — Emil explains just as apathetic, trying to not burn his mouth after a big bite on the fried stuff. —No wonder why she was so wary of me… — the girl awkwardly comments, but the man quickly shakes his head. —Bringing you here was her idea, she thought you could learn a couple of things here. — he added still struggling with the hot snack. —Learn…? Like what exactly? —The girl defies his fiancée assumption with an angered tone. —Let’s see… that _‘old’_ woman, for example, her name is Ruth, what do you think of her? — He questions and gestures with his hands for a pause, then adds, —this is, of course, another test for you, Mushroom. — finishing with a malicious smile, the girl pouts at his words, yet takes a pause to ponder about it. —...There’s little I can think of her, she’s dedicated to her job and she always wakes up this early to work… she’s… loud and thinks mighty of her sense of humor, she smacked my shoulder a couple of times, I think she’s overcompensating of her boring life — The last part makes the man release an audible mumble of confusion, his mouth stuffed in yam, quickly passing it down with coffee. — What do you mean by that? — He's in honest lost, the girl expression turns to an annoyed one. —She probably lived here all her life; the stall must have been of her parents or an idea when she was young, always doing the same every day up to her age… now she needs to act like that for her days to have meaning. — She finishes shrugging and rubbing her shoulders in frustration, taking the last piece of yam before Emil does it and chugging it down in an angered hunger. —That would be an accurate description if you were talking about someone in the city, but this is a town, and that woman there, is an honest, happy person. — Emil replies all serious, Simone keeps quiet, her mouth begins to make the same knots as before, —Living in a city, like you and me, makes us grew under the thought we won’t be anything for anyone if our lives don’t revolve around a career and professional studies… — He pauses placing a hand over his face, the sun has come out all the way and started to illuminate the entire town, the girl just rests her face on her knees, bringing out her curtain of hair, mumbling _‘shields up’_ and snorting at her joke, —But here in this small place, you don’t need much to be impressive, you don’t need a title to be loved, that woman’s food, her coffee… how did it taste? — He wonders with a little giggle, hearing the suckling sounds of Simone, licking the salt off her thumb, she stutters embarrassed for a second. —…It was great. — she confesses, Emil takes another deep breath and continues. —The woman just knows how to make deep-fried food, but because of that she’s considered a chef — He says extending his hands, the girl coughs baffled, —Rebecca only knew how to play a couple of accords in the guitar and sing some notes, but the town considered her a musician, she’s now one great compositor and soloist, the people of this town appreciates and gives value to everything and everyone here, they have a wonderful perspective of life. — He finishes proud of his lecture, but the girl remains quiet, in awkward silence Emil begins to worry, he can’t see her face inside the layers of hair, then, she finally speaks her mind. —Must be nice, being born in a town of lies... — The sentence leaves the man perplexed, he feels all his talking went to waste, the girl abruptly stands up, hands into fists, agitated and angered —But Rebecca was just lucky! _In this world, you don’t have that many chances in life!_ — She screams furious and runs away up to the stairs, the townspeople looking at her from the food stalls confused, Emil groans loudly and picks everything up, taking his time he throws the plastic cups and carton box in a trash bin near the stalls. —Aren’t you gonna follow her?! —Ruth screams from her shop into the beach, Emil doesn’t answer, he just waves to the woman and smiles, taking the shoes of the two he walks up the stairs, then with laughter, he gazes to the girl kneeling in the floor, barely some meters away from the stairs, out of breath and energy.

—Running with a full stomach, that’s what you get for taking my yam. — He walks to her and helps her stand by pulling on her shoulder, —Mushroom, I… — he tries to begin a conversation, but the girl cut him by shaking off his arm. —I’m not planning to apologize! — She shouts bitterly, but Emil doesn’t quit, he holds her by the back of her neck and she immediately turns quiet, losing the strength to fight back. They walk to the entrance of town, where he points to a metallic black chair right next to a steel pipe faucet surrounded by concrete, both the chair and faucet sitting in a steel drain-mesh of intricate figures of seashells and conchs. —Sit there. —He orders her in a dry tone, she quickly follows without arguing, the seat of the chair moves as she sits, funnily making her spin, —This faucet collects water from the beach in a pond, goes through some filters made with rocks and mesh, and gravity does the rest. — He explains stopping the seat so she ends facing him, opening the faucet he holds some on his hands —Pure and crystalline, ocean water. — He rubs her feet with his soaked hands, making her squirm, in the quiet calm of the early morning, hearing only the splashing sounds of the water pouring down the sewer, Simone bit on her finger to keep her voice down from the tickles he gave her, but she couldn’t hide the surprised gasp as Emil gave her a deep kiss on her foot while holding it with both hands. There was a silent break between the two, he gestured to her with his hands and without sharing a word with the other, the girl gave him the other foot, there wasn’t laughter this time, Simone’s heart beat fast on the anticipation of the expected second kiss, which he gave without a second thought, the faucet was closed and he helped her to wear her shoes again, —Test… Do you know what washing and kissing someone’s feet means? — Emil asked after they renewed their walking, this time, inside the boulevard of the town. —Uhum… humility… generosity… kindness… selflessness… You aren’t the pope, you know that right? I hate when you act like this…— She mourns pretending to be frustrated. —Eh, what? Why? What do you mean? — His stuttering and honest worry make the other feel guilty of her words instantly. —I mean… you always do something like that, whenever I’m mad or depressed or start crying… you never get mad, you never yell at me, you haven’t even been rough on me, instead… instead! — She shouts, starling him, Emil looks left and right and shooshes her, there’s still many asleep as they walk in a parade of closed stores and darkened showcases, —Instead of any of that, is when you are calmer… kinder… why do you have to act like that? Why can’t you just get angry? — She questions in a mix of frustration and a desire to cry, her words drowning in her throat. —…Would you feel better if I did that? —Emil questions next, walking close to her, fixing her black curtain with a finger to see her face, she’s looking down embarrassed when she shakes her head. —No… even though I hate it… that’s what makes you such a great person. — She sketches a small smile at the end of her drowns words, she wipes her face and breaths loudly, in and out, again and again, trying to obtain the strength to speak while Emil stares at the scene confused, then, she shoots —Say, let’s be real for a second, you took me out of my parents house in the middle of Christmas parties to live with you for a couple of weeks, they say you were a high school friend but they have _never_ talked about you, there aren’t pictures of you in their school albums either… and when you visited us dad was angry and mom put this… really stupid smile whenever she talked to you… what is that you want from me? What are my parents and you hiding from me? — Almost like a nervous tic, just like on the beach, he closed his eyes, groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. —I guess there’s no point in pretending I’m not hiding something from you, but I’m not ready to tell you yet, my little Mushroom. — He smiled kindly, patting her head, the girl pouted loudly, making her cheeks inflate up to see the color of her veins, his nervous laughter doesn’t help, but the lightening of a bulb on the street saves him from replying her interrogatory —And look, Colette just opened! Before the day begins… — He pauses and holds her by the shoulders, confusing her with a malicious smile —I want you to cut your hair —.

Meeting with the young woman sweeping the street with a broom, she lets a surprised scream when recognizing Emil, welcoming the two with a tight hug with her free arm and wishing them a happy new year. Colette was a woman of the age of Simone who owns the only beauty salon of town, quick and energetic, she leaves the broom to a side in the entrance and opens the door for them to come in. The place was a combination of old and new, the station of the chairs, mirrors and utensils were of modern brands, but Emil and Simone meet first are with the naked foundations of the walls and wooden floor, layers of tapestry appearing the more they walked inside, Colette hurried them to the chairs. —Isn’t my place lovely, I decorated it myself! — The woman exclaims in a sweet tone, Simone is ready to snarl, but the man gave her a death glare, she remained quiet —So? You’re the first one to come so you have all my attention, what do you want? — She continues, running left and right, taking her apron and tying her gold, blonde hair to aside. —The usual for me and, start with me too, we’ll leave Mushroom for later — He expresses with apathy fixing his seat and the neck of his shirt, the girl int he chair next to him had brought all the hair up to her hand and was embracing it tightly, prostrated in the seat, curtain closed all the way. —Don’t you worry dear! I promise when is your turn you will end as pretty as a fairy tale princess! — Colette tells her shaking her hips, the other just remain closed down in fear. Opening space for her right eye, Simone stares at the humming girl spray water on the hair of Emil, massaging his scalp with her fingers. —Do you want me to shave your beard too? — She whispers almost inaudible, Simone bits her lower lip by reflex, Colette is looking at her with a prickly smile, the other is groaning annoyed. —Just the hair today, I want you to focus all your energy on her. — bringing a comb and scissors she spins Emil's chair in front of the mirror. —Right… Mushroom, is she Rebecca’s assistant or something? Why do you call her like that? — The woman wonders, making the other finally come out of her hair-house, pouting loudly, but Emil doesn’t pay attention to her. —A mushroom it’s a fungus, a being that grows white and tall in the darkness and humidity, proud of its development even though it feeds from the trash of others — Colette takes a shocked pause, looking at the girl, then looking back at Emil, pinching his nose, —Now that’s just cruel… stop doing that or I’ll make you a Mohawk, understand? — The girl menaces but Emil just laughs at both of them. In silence the woman continues, tiny noises of the edge from the scissors cutting down his hair in short chirps of precision, Simone stares at the girl and her eyes lost in her focus, a small smile was drawn on her face, almost hypnotized, she made her way to the back of his head, brushing it, splitting in part between her fingers, cutting, it was the first time the girl looked at Emil so calm and so peaceful, she took her time to appreciate the brown hair the beautician was making shorter of what already was, her fingers moving in amazing dexterity, following the rhythm of the scissors in the other hand. —Do you ever get bored of cutting hair? — Simone questions, interrupting the silence, Colette frowns and stops immediately, walking away from the chairs and looking for something on the other side, Emil opens an eye discretely to watch where she went. —Mushroom… Colette doesn’t like to be interrupted, don’t talk to her until she’s done, ok? — He whispers covering his mouth, the girl has come back with a small pot of cream hair which she instantly uses to rub on his pins, she doesn’t even look at Simone again in the rest of the session, skillfully shaving the pins and behind his ear with a razor, at that moment Simone thought, the tranquility inside Colette was as vast as the plains she once visited. —There’s no reason to get tired of it… — the girl finally speaks when taking the hair leftovers off with a brush. —You say that but, — Simone insists. —Hasn’t there been a day when you feel like _‘if I see another pluck of hair’_ …— Colette stares at her all serious while removing the cloth from Emil’s neck as he silently looks at the results in the mirror. —I don’t know how are things in the city, but here we do the things we love, if you ever feel like that about your job or your studies, you are probably killing yourself from the inside out. — She firmly concludes lecturing the girl prostrated in the chair and extending her hand to her, Simone shyly holds on her and gets pulled and made to stand up, Colette brings her in front of the mirror —You have some beautiful black hair, but is so long and heavy… and you’re not taking enough care of it… — she quickly analyzes her, brushing Simone’s hair between her fingers, her eyes losing focus just like before —Say, what kind of haircut you’d like? — asking in her trance Simone quickly shakes her head and squirms —B-but I don’t want to… — her cracked tone makes Emil appear from behind and interrupt them. —It's up to you Colette, I want you to find what suits her better — He explains and gestures with his hands. In a fast movement of her hands, Colette uses her scissors to lift her head from the chin, slowly moving the hair away from the girl’s face, Simone feels too intimidated to do anything. —You have a nice face profile hidden by your hair and those eye-bags… and your chest is more than humble, it would look even bigger if we chop down in big height here, enhancing your figure —Her scissors moving along with her words, Simone looking back at the man every second more nervous at the words of _‘chop down in big’_ , but the man just points to the chair, suggesting her to sit. Covering her face with both hands, the girl squirms to every chirp of the scissors blades, unable to face where and how much Colette is cutting, after thirty long minutes, the sounds of the scissors finally stop, feeling a finger tapping on her shoulder Simone looks down and slowly removes her hands, clinging tightly on her knees and with closed eyes, it takes her minutes to lift her face, most of her hair was cut up to her neck and brassed, the scared screech coming from her mouth makes both Colette and Emil to cover their ears. Jumping out of the chair she still feels some odd weight, turning back into the mirror she gets to see a thin layer of hair which survived to the beautician, but it only made her feel weirder about the result, with tears coming from her eyes, the other two stare at each other with fixed expressions. It takes another half of an hour for Simone to calm down, Colette then whispers a couple of things in her ear and takes her behind a door, deep inside the shop, leaving Emil alone for a long while until they come back; leaving the man with his jaw on the floor.

Colette had replaced Simone’s pants with blue jean shorts and stockings of her own, holding her jacket and the t-shirt Simone was using before under her right arm, the girl was only wearing the black cotton sweater, which made slightly visible the white-straps of her bra, the surviving layer of hair down to her waist was turned into twin tails and tied with big and flashy red ribbons, her ankles rubbing each other in obvious shiness to present herself in that attire to Emil. —So how about it, she looks way better than before doesn’t she! — Colette shouts all happy and satisfied, the man clears his throat with a smile and approaches to them, Simone reacting by looking down. —I’m sorry for earlier… I cried like a child… — the girl whispers to him, —What do you think… isn’t it too scandalous? — She wonders with a puppy eyes stare, making the man snorted. —You look pretty. — He said short and simple, Colette frowning by reflex. —The hell, is that all you have to s— She tried to scold him, but was instantly interrupted by an acute, happy scream from Simone, who turned back to the girl with a smile from ear to ear —You heard? He said he likes it! — She exclaimed looking back at the man. —Uhm… I’m not so sure that was what he said… — the girl stutters worried, but couldn’t continue insisting due to the happiness of Simone watching her silhouette in the mirror.

Marking almost 10 am at the sun clock in the plaza of town, the sun high and shiny in the sky, people walking here and there visiting the stores which were now open, they sit in one of the nearest benches made of concrete and quartz, detailed inscriptions of sea animals sculpted on them. This time the man took the turn to buy food for the two, bringing with him plastic plates with a whole fried fish and two bottles of herbal tea, it takes just one bite from Simone in the crispy dish to get to her liking, gross sounds of hunger as she crunches on it like a beast, not minding the bones nor the smoke warning of the hot temperature in the meat, Emil silently stares unable to start his, but the scene gets interrupted by a loud whistling, a couple of young townsmen passing by near the plaza catcalling on the girl. —That… that has never happened before… I thought I would be glad if it ever happened and yet… — She stutters lamenting the situation, bitterly removing the crumbs off her face with a thumb —Just like other girls say… is awful. — She continues. —Want me to nag them about it? — Emil asks ready to stand up, but she shakes her head. —… I still think you look pretty — He says a bit nervous from his lack of options to the situation, Simone looks up to him and pouts. —I feel everyone is just looking at my tits. — She complains bitterly, the man coughs and stutters from her words, the girl just turning angrier, devouring the rest of her fish then taking the plate of Emil before he can react, the man just sighs and rubs the back of his neck, with a sad smile he gives up on his lunch, the other munching on it like a hungry mouse. —Well, it should be about time for another test… — He whispers after Simone finishes the second fish, the girl hurries to open her tea bottle and clean her mouth, —What are your thoughts about Colette? — He asks all serious, the girl shivers from the interrogation, slowly using a sleeve of her sweater to clean her mouth, dirtying it with crumbs of breading. —I think she’s… lucky. — Simone reluctantly begins to explain, nervously playing with her fingers, —She has that salon all for herself, she does what she loves and never gets tired of it and she also takes it seriously, the fact she doesn’t like to talk while working makes me believe all the other beauticians of the city don’t know what their job is about… is like she had every correct step perfectly signaled from the moment she was born so she could move forward… — Her fingers stop moving, slowly pulling from each other. —She has amounted so much in such a short amount of time… unlike me… we are even the same age… — she finishes with a sobbing tone, Emil strokes her shoulder in silence. —If she’s that interesting… can you make a play script about her? — The question makes Simone gasps and look at him with murdering intention, wide-open eyes, biting on her lower lip, groaning. —I wish mom have _never_ shown you my scripts… I didn’t even know she found where I was hiding them… — Crossing her arms and looking down, she lets out an annoying screech. —I ask again, can you? — He insists undermining her reaction, the girl lets out another screech. —Why would I?! She’s not good enough of a material for an entire play! — kicking the sidewalk she screams, some eyes staring at them from afar. — You put her in a mighty stand just some minutes ago… why she couldn’t stellar one of your plays? — Emil questions once more, the girl remains with arms crossed. —Because in the end, she’s just a girl with a simple job, nobody would like to assist in such a boring play from such an ordinary person! — standing furious Simone concludes, but the man refuses to let the conversation end. — Aren’t you just projecting now? Just like you did with Ruth in the early morning… — His words make her release a bigger furious screech as she turns back to him, loud enough for everyone in the plaza to stop from their routines and stare at them.

Realizing at the scene she’s making, she sits back on the bench, still furious, but this time Emil stands up and without looking at her, he walks away to the other side of the boulevard and Simone, speechless, stays frozen and scared in that seat. Gazing at his silhouette disappear after some meters she breaths loudly and holds in her desire to cry, pouting and with crossed arms staring at the sun clock in the middle. Light fighting its way through the tall buildings crafted in rock and branches of trees, she quickly found fascinated the town's people made such edifications without cutting down the branches into wooden tables, the floor was also full of care, made of white cement and decorated with pebble stones and sea shells all the way, the breeze coming from the little gaps between houses, from the beach into the plaza, cold and salty, manages to start calming her down, but the smell of the ocean gets overthrown by a distinctive sweet stench of baked goods, Emil had come back with freshly made donuts on his hands, sitting close to her, but Simone separates, he sighs and hands her the two donuts he was holding on his right hand. —Accept this as my apology, I didn’t know if you liked strawberry over chocolate so I bought both… can you eat all of them? — He wonders with a trace of laughter at the end of his voice, obviously teasing her from her bottomless appetite. —See, you’re doing it again… even though you’re right you’re the one trying to patch things up… why do you have to be so nice with me? — she mourns sad, yet unable to remove her eyes from the donuts in both of her hands, she takes a fast bite of each one and chews, making happy noises from the flavor. —Mushroom, you say you can’t make a story out of Colette for being an ordinary person… — He begins a new conversation, ignoring the laments of the girl, —But there are lots of artists out there, who can make great stories of what you believe are _‘ordinary lives’_ , who says you can’t? — Gesturing with the donut on his hand he turns to her, the girl stops on her desert and gives him a fixated look —C’mon… why don’t you try it yourself? Push to make something great out of nothing like… this bench we are sitting in!

—This bench? —

—Yeah, can’t you try making a story with this bench? —

—Wait so uhm… do you want me to make the bench the main protagonist? —

—Do you? —

—I would have to give live to the bench, and that’s stupid —

—Then make the story revolve mainly around it… is that ok? —

—...—

—Mushroom? —

—A man… a man is sitting in this bench, in this town, but he isn’t from here… —

—Is he a tourist? —

—… Yes and no… He’s visiting the town but he’s not here for tourism alone, there has to be something more meaningful in it he… He has to meet someone! To reunite with someone! —

—And who that would be? —

—It has to be someone dearly important… a friend or a lover aren’t close enough… his mother, he has to reunite with his mother again —

—Again you say? —

—They had a fight and haven’t seen each other in a while, he finally found his mother moved to this town, so he's sitting in this bench waiting for the day she walks around the plaza —

—That sounds sweet… what would you do to make the story proceed? —

—The townspeople finds him weird for just sitting in the bench every morning and every evening, so they begin to talk with him —

—Then the story moves about him sharing the purpose of the trip with them, maybe the townspeople can help him find his mother —

—They can’t —

—Why not? —

—The story would end too fast if one of them knows in which part of the town she lives, so they must know very little about his mother, they know she moved in long ago but she isn’t very social nor she likes talking a lot with the townspeople —

—Isolated —

—Yes —

—So he’s fixed to stay in this bench until she needs to restock her kitchen with supplies and has the need to step inside the plaza —

—Yes! —

—Ok, what happens next? —

—He… He meets with a woman of town; he shares his story with her and tells her he wants to find his mother as soon as possible and finally apologize for his wrong doings —

—What would that woman do? —

—In exchange, the woman would sit with him a share a bit of her own life story —

—Empathy perhaps? —

—Yes… then the next day it happens again with a new different person —

—Wait a second Mushroom, so how many times is this going to happen? —

—You’re right… there has to be a limited of number of times this routine happens… let’s say one person each day for three days, he shares his story with them, but they have no clue of where his mother exactly lives, yet they stay with him and cheer him up, sharing a bit of themselves in exchange —

—What happens after the three people cycle is finished? —

—Uhm… well… —

—Does he finally find his mother at the fourth day? —

—… No, he doesn’t —

—Why? —

—At the fourth day… a woman passes by the plaza, a tourist, elegant… hot —

—I see, he doesn’t meet his mother because of that woman? —

—Wait, shut up for a second, I’m thinking… —

—…—

—He… She’s wearing one beautiful summer dress of yellow flowers and hat, but she’s talking on the phone, and she’s furious… she’s having a fight with her mother on the phone… —

—Does the man try to persuade her from not fighting with her mother? —

—No, wait, shut it… he… she sits in the other extreme of the bench and groans; it looks like she wants to vent with him how angry her mother made her —

—He accepts? —

—He’s hypnotized from her looks; he’s one dumb man so he accepts to hear her problems, and because he feels he can get a one-time chance with her, he begins to talk awful things of his own mother too —

—Well that’s low... —

—He’s caught on the idea of hitting on her, he doesn’t realize the awful things he’s saying nor the volume of his words, each of the three people he interacted with are disappointed —

—… This took a strange turn… what happens next? —

—They continue sharing bad-taste jokes for a while until... —

—Until? —

—… The girl draws close of him, he feels a cold metallic thingy poke his ribs from a side —

—… A gun… —

— _“The woman you’re looking for is sitting in the bench at the other extreme of the plaza, but you won’t ever meet her”_ Is what she says to him —

—Why? —

—Turns out a couple of years ago, when he and his mother lived together in the city, he joined a group of criminals… a mafia perhaps… —

—I still don’t get it —

—He was buying his place in the familia, he did errands, collect payments, give a lick to the people the boss wanted out of town, but it was never enough —

—Why? —

—The boss got to know his father let a big juicy insurance and he wanted him to give it to the familia… but to make that possible he had to do something horrible —

—… To kill his own mother —

—Her mother knew of his intentions… that’s why she ran away into this town, that’s why she’s asocial, everything was so he would never find her—

—And the woman with a gun on his ribs? —

—A freelance killer her mother hired in the overwhelming despair —

—…This isn’t going to end well is it? —

—He gazes to the other side of the plaza, he recognizes her mom sitting in the bench just like the woman said, but before he can yell, before he can do anything, a wave of the beach breaks and she shoots twice on his ribs —

—Muffler? —

—Muffler, yes —

—How does it end? —

—The woman quickly saves the gun on her purse and walks away, for everyone else the man looks like he just fell asleep in the bench, until one person walks by and stumbles into a pool made from his blood, her mother at the other side crying for what she was pushed to do, the end. —

Simone takes a short breathe and looks back at the man, who looks at her satisfied. —Did… did I just? — She stutters her words in surprise. —It has a strange end, maybe it won’t be enough for some people but… — He pauses extending his arm and gently stroking her head, — You made a whole story out of a bench, I knew you could do it. — Emil tells her with a smile, the girl blushes silently, jumping on him, hugging him and burying her face on his chest. At the intense heat of the afternoon, they walked away from the plaza, going back in their steps, again in the beach, this time with their shoes trying to don’t burn their feet in the sand, reunited once more with Emil’s bike, intact and with the keys still hanging, just like he said. —Rebecca’s house is in the other side of town, across that big hill, so we need wheels this time —He explains pointing at what Simone at first thought was a small mountain, she was surprised to hear it was a hill, —But first, let me ask you something — Emil gets in front of her, the girl shrugging as his hands come near her face, just to reach her twin tails and play with her ribbons, —What do you think of these things Colette did for you? Do you like them? —Faster than the lighting, Simone looks down and shakes her head. —They’re big and dumb, I feel like strawberry shortcake. — she mumbles to him. —Right? I just knew you didn’t like it, so, when I went to buy the donuts, I also bought this. — He digs in one of his front pockets and brings a brown paper bag, turning it upside down and shook it in front of her, the girl nervously extending her hands when hearing a strange metallic clink slip from the bag. It was a necklace with a little pearl and two golden hair pins decorated with a skull inside of a blooming rose, with eyes wide open, Emil laughed at the increasing screech of happiness of the girl, throwing away the ribbons and making him help her make her twin tails again, leaving the necklace for the last part, she remains in flustered silence when feeling Emil’s fingertips rub on her neck as she holds on her hair. —Congratulations Mushroom. — The man says still laughing at her bashful excitement of the skull design, he brings his phone to take a picture and show it to her. —You know have a personality — He finished with malice, but instead of pouting, the girl snorted and laughed as hard as him, asking him to send the picture to her phone. Leaving the helmets inside the backseat of the bike, Emil takes the steer when Simone pokes on his shoulder, —Don’t worry, I promise I won’t ride too fast, these streets here are safe but if you really want to wear the helmet… — He suggests to her but the girl puts a finger on his mouth, stopping him from talking. —Close your eyes… would you? I… I want to thank you for the hair pins and all. — Emil frowns confused, but the face of Simone looks too serious to object, he sighs and rubs his neck, then sits in the bike and closes his eyes, breathing loudly, he can hear the shyly steps of the girl dragging her feet in the asphalt of the parklot, getting closer and closer, feeling her fingertips on his cheeks he shakes, making the girl step back with a loud squirm, he laughs and apologizes, then goes back to remain silent, he know feels the entire hands of Simone, slowly holding on his head, going from his jaw up to his ears and hair, his confusion turning into worry as he senses an agitated breathing over his face, he knows what’s coming and wants to stop her, but her anxious squirms makes it hard to say anything, feeling the soft and trembling grasp of her lips, they kiss shortly, he can clearly hear her pulse on her hands beating faster, she pulls back very fast, he believes that’s as far as she will go, as he will allow her to go, but she hasn’t removed her hands yet, when feeling once again that awkward trembling he opens his eyes, making her screech, frowning and shaking his head, is all he can do, to stop her without humiliate her, but her hands remain fixed on his face, taking a second gulp and releasing a series of nervous sounds she renews her attempt of a second kiss, Emil is surprised of her will to continue, they kiss a second time, this time, Emil holds her by the hips and pulls her close, Simone releases a gasp and a strange, bittersweet smile, she goes for a third and obtains it, Emil replies slowly, she gasps again, their mouths open a little at the fourth kiss, she leans on his chest, her breathing is a mess, there’s a fifth kiss when Emil comes back to his senses, embracing the girl with both arms and gently petting the back of his head, it marked the end of that moment, Simone smiled in silence and sat in the back of bike, this time she was the one surrounding his waist, Emil started the bike and both departed into the streets.

Taking on the route with wheels gave another perspective of town. The boulevard felt shorter than when walking, the plaza smaller and secluded from the outside, it made it look like a small, permanent fair at the entrance of town. The buildings grew bigger and sophisticated the deeper Emil drove, each time farther from the shore, well-made asphalt streets, the white and yellow house of the mayor still decorated with Christmas ornaments, street lights with pedestrian signals, Emil continued taking turns left and right, sometimes waving to the town’s people who recognized him. Driving farther gave a symmetrical feeling to Simone, once again the buildings shrank and the atmosphere of the modern age disappeared, taking into a rusty street they went into a highway up the hill, almost driving in circles from the tight turns the more they went up, then driving inside an old tunnel, scaring the girl, yet surprised when coming out to a white-sand shore with a parade of beach houses resting to a side of the hill. Stopping at a mechanical fence Emil gets down of the bike to press in a button on the wall, an old skinny man with a secure guard uniform appears after ten minutes, apologizing and laughing for making them wait, bringing a card from his pocket and sliding it through a reader on the wall, making the fence release a buzzing sound and open its way for them, Emil rides on the bike again and waves the man goodbye, after almost fifty meters the street ends at a parking lot, just like at the entrance of town, taking their belongings from inside the back seat, both him and Simone walk down the stairs into the beach. —Can I ask you something? — Simone finally speaks, as they begin to walk in direction of the houses. —Is it about of what happened? — He wonders nervous, Simone giggles and shakes her head. —I was thinking about that but… it made me think about you, the person I thought you were and how you actually are… — the tenderness on her voice confuses the man, he looks down at her with a frown —I knew you only as the _‘purifier’_ painter… but you were just another random artist who hit big in the world, is not like I put that much of a thought about you —She explains to the confused eyebrows over his eyes. —So then what is that you thought about me? — He questions curious. —Honestly? Through those horrible paintings of you I thought you were some kind of douche bag, who didn’t care about anyone and always was doing what he wanted, color me surprised you actually… — She pauses, from both talking and walking, facing Emil and giving him one big smile. —You turned out to be kind. —She giggled again and renewed her steps, then stick out her tongue when looking back at him. —I still think your paintings are horrible though. — The girl finished, somehow in a happy mood, the whole change of her mood had the man utterly confused. —So you have seen my paintings? —He asks trying to keep with her pace. —Well… I remember one of your first works, the eye thingy. — Simone describes to him with her hands. —Ah, you mean _“Harvesting the Future”_ .— Emil replies, the girl reacts by pointing at him with the finger and a disgusted gasp. —Yeah that one, an old putrid old man on his bones, picking up eyeballs growing from plants like a harvest. — the girl explains with her tongue out in disgust. —It was so horrible I never wanted to see your works again… until you appeared that day in my house, and I had to make a bit of research about you… just what in heaven’s sake does those horrible paintings have anything to do with being a _‘purifier’_? — Her questions makes Emil laugh really loud, his usual nervous tic appears; he takes a moment from the laughter to respond. —It started as a rumor…

—A rumor? —

—Yes _“Harvesting the Future”_ wasn’t one of my first works, _it was my first work_ , an actor wanted me to make a portrait of him —

—Well that doesn’t look like any actor I know —

—They knew I wasn’t going to do an actual portrait, but they insisted —

—But was all that setting about? —

—Wait, I’m getting there… One day they appeared and started talking me about his live, his problems and his worries, we were drinking and I showed him my works, then he asked me to make a portrait of him —

—So is like that because you were drunk? —

—No! No, no… is like that because… that’s what I paint, when is about people… I paint the representation of the things they hate about themselves —

—…I didn’t see that one coming… —

—So well, after I did that work, they called me months later to tell me how much better they felt about their doubts and their worries, almost as if I had taken all of their negative emotions and sealed them on my painting —

—then, the nickname of _‘the purifier’_ is because people believe, you… what? Exorcise their demons through your paintings? —

—Pretty much yeah —

—That’s so stupid… Oh… I’m sorry—

—No, is ok, I also think is stupid… they made that rumor about me and then I continued getting famous people… powerful people… but more importantly… _superstitious_ people, all knocking on my door asking me to do the same thing I did in that painting —

—And it doesn’t bother you because…? —

—…I like to believe I’m helping them… in a way —

—In a way? —

—When they see their portraits, when they see the literal and figurative representations of what they fear… of what they hate and loathe about themselves… they feel pressured to change those parts about them —

—Like mental suggestion? —

—Exactly —

—So in a way, you are purifying them —

—Yeah, you could say that, but I rather you don’t —

—What else of your works has an interesting story? —

—Uhm… Do you know _‘Illumination’_? —

—Yes, the painting of a demon coming out of an egg shell with the shape of a woman, then dying when facing the lights of heaven… —

—That was a request of Rebecca —

—... And after painting that, she’s still marrying you? —

—She believes that painting saved her, actually —

—Jesus almighty —

—You can say that again —

—What about your last piece of work? How was it again? _‘The City of Sins’_? —

— _‘The City of Dreams’_ —

—Yeah that, that’s honestly… one of your most disgusting works, you managed to paint a whole city in such a way the buildings looked like flesh and skin, even when I remember it now it makes me wanna puke—

—… Alexandra Ramirez asked me to paint that for the city —

—Alexandra Ra… you’re kidding right? That’s a congresswoman! —

—And born in that city of us —

—Wait, hold on your horses… you’re saying she asked you to purify the city? I think people is going to find your powers are nothing but a lie that way —

—Then tell me, have you ever felt a positive change in the city since I made that painting? Anything worth of remember? —

—I… not so long ago a stranger paid my bus fare when I was out of change, does that count? —

—Call me a stupid but I’ll answer that question, with another question, when was the last time a stranger on the city did a favor to you when you were in a pinch? —

—… Oh… oh wow… —

—Really? That much? —

—Ages… —

Simone suddenly stops noticing an odd silence. The break of waves can be hear clear along with the chirping of the birds, they have walked in front of five houses but all of them were deprived of the usual noise of people living in them, some even had their metallic curtains all the way down, the jingles of bells at the terraces from the gentle afternoon wind sprouts nothing but worry in the girl. —Dude… Where’s everyone? —She asks with a trembling on her voice. —Is winter, nobody comes here in winter — His reply only made her worry even more, she hurried to catch on the pace of the man who had taken way far from her. —What do you mean? Why would they not be in their houses? — She stutters, Emil scratches his cheek awkwardly. —This place… is called _‘the rich clown village_ ’ by the town's people, all these houses are owned by very rich people who only come here for seasonal vacations — He explains, the girl grows awfully red. — Which means… we are going to be completely alone? — Her question makes Emil stutter this time. —…Yes, yes we will… then again, this time, Mushroom, let’s make sure nothing else happens. — With a low and serious tone he expressed his feelings for the kiss, the girl, holding tight on her sweater and squirming in shame. Passing by another five houses, almost at the end, Emil stops at a beach house distinctive of others for being white and yellow varnished wood —One time Rebecca told me about how much she wished to live in here when she was young, one of the first things she did when hit big as a musician was to buy a house here. — He explains with a smile that makes Simone feel jealous, but then she snorted when realized. —But that means she’s now another rich clown. — the girl laughs maliciously. —Yeah… I don’t think she understands the irony on it either. —

Walking up the stairs he opens the glass door, Simone surprised once again of the lack of care for the people in that place to lock and protect their owning. Dropping their things at a corner in the house, dusty, and with a strong smell of old wood and leather, Emil checks the power and lights are still running appropriately while the girl discretely makes her way into the kitchen, just to find an empty fridge and stalls. —There’s nothing here... We are going to die… — she mumbles concerned. —There should be canned goods somewhere along with a white chocolate rum… you can survive a night without a big supper, right? — He tells her from behind, startling Simone which makes a cat jump from the fridge to the other side of the kitchen. —Sure, if it’s only one night… — she stutters embarrassed. They continue checking the indoors, if the water is running, if the heather is working, but the TV doesn’t get satellite signal and the mixed smell of old but well-preserved furniture and ornaments is sucking out the energy of the girl, lying down on the floor of the living room, in absolute boredom, Emil checking on the news from his phone on a sofa near her. The tick-tock of a wall clock interchanging rhythms with the waves at the beach, for a small concert of quiet and peaceful sounds, the girl staring at the wooden ceiling with a lost sight and playing with her fingers —Are we going to stay in this town all weekend? —Simone spouts in total boredom. —Yeah, we can go back to the city tomorrow evening. —Emil replies without care and fiddling on his phone. —Then you are going to take me back to my parent’s house on Monday… — this time there’s a sad tone on her words, she turns to gaze at the man who stops on his phone and sighs loudly. —Yes… in Monday we’ll have to say goodbye. — He replies slowly, the girl slowly turning her body to him, resting her face in her hands. —And… in that short time left… — She sighs and pauses, Emil looking at her with one eye, —Just when are you going to admit you’re my father? — The sudden, softly spoken question paralyzes him in the sofa, with eyes wide open he stays staring at her, Simone frowns and sits on the floor with crossed legs; he still doesn’t say a word, the other growing angrier. —I’ve been having my suspicions for a while… they way my parents reacted when you were in the house… the way you’ve been taking care of me… how you have been paying for everything while on my stay for no reason… I even threw you a bone this morning to see if you would finally say it and yet… —Her voice trembles immensely from the tension, Emil slowly leaving his phone back to the sofa —I’m… — she stutters, coughing on her saliva from the nerves and taking a deep breath to calm down —I’m not really going to ask you why you haven’t… shown in these past 22 years… I’m not that kind of person… but I need to know… why now? —Emil quickly leans on the sofa and opens his mouth ready to answer, but no words come out of his throat, he tries again. —One day… of November of this year, your mother called me over, she said my daughter stepped out of college without any other plan and she was growing anxious for your future… I didn’t know about you until that day… Is the truth. — He answers surprisingly nervous. —So she never told to any of us about it… — The girl whispers and prostrates, hiding her face on her knees. — She told me about how you had an inclination to the arts… like, like me, and that she wanted me to meet you and give you some advice, to take you through the right direction. — Emil continues explaining, but Simone refuses to show her face again —In the end, I felt telling you I was your father wasn’t necessary, after all… your mother insists that she doesn’t want us to see each other again after this. — He finishes with sadness, the girl releasing a small annoyed screech. —She even told you that? Awesome… just awesome… — She shout with angry sarcasm. —So she’s going to coldly manipulate every single step of my live until the day I die…? Is it how everything is always going to be?! — She stands up mad, tears coming from her eyes. —What’s the point of finally meeting you?! I suddenly have another father?! And then these weeks we’ve spent together… those tests and all that you’ve done for me… to not see you ever again?! Is ridiculous! — Her screams echoing in the emptiness of the house, Emil each time more nervous, gesturing to her she should calm down, a surprising knocking on the door startling the two, Simone squirming in panicked anger cleaning her face with her hands, looking for the bathroom of the house. — You said we were completely alone here! — She shouts one last time before leaving the man alone in the living room, still speechless, Emil tries to put himself together and find out who’s still knocking in the glass door in such an energetic way, he finds a happy young couple waving at him and screaming excited when noticing the man inside the house.

Hours have passed by with the neighbors inside the house, drinking beers and snacks brought by the two and playing cards with Emil and Simone. Samuel and Veronica were a couple of town friends of Rebecca who also lived in the village, but their strange visit held the other two in an awkward pause from their barely starting discussion, and the moods were swinging between jokes and laughter. —You sure are a good drinker for someone so young, you don’t even look tipsy! — Veronica eagerly comments to Simone as the woman herself started to have a little bit of trouble to keep her head in one place, always with a dizzy smile. —Is hard to get drunk with such a bad beer. — The girl snarled back, silencing the neighbors in confusion, Emil softly kicking her ankle behind the table —I mean! Is just… I’m used to stronger drinks! That’s all. — Simone awkwardly rephrases, kicking the man back. —Is that so? This one is an imported brand, one of my favorites… now that I think about it, you are standing in well too Emil, whatever you guys are used to drink? — Samuel adds with his lower lip hanging up and down showing the signs of drunk, both the girl and the man looking at each other uncomfortable. —Speaking about the devil… these bottles are empty, let me go to the fridge and look for more — Emil suggests leaving the cards to a side of the table and walking to the kitchen, hiding his groans. —Oh, bring the quiche for the crackers Emil! The quiche!—Veronica yells from the table with a drunker laughter. —Geez seriously guys, we were so bored with no one else here, so now let’s make it a blast tonight! — Samuel joins to the screaming with his girlfriend; Simone’s frowning growing bigger and bigger. —Excuse me for a second… — She whispers leaving the table and joining Emil on the kitchen — Did you just hear them now? They plan to stay here all night! Is 9pm already, I’m tired! — Simone whispers loudly to him, throwing a tantrum. —I know, I know, I want them to go too… I’m trying to think of something… — He replies with an unexpected angered tone for his character, filling his left arm with beers and a plastic container, looking at her he blushes and stutters, then clearing his throat he turns serious again —Say… I have a doubt since this afternoon… if you had all those suspicions already… why… what was that kiss all about? — His voice breaking in a funny acute noise which makes Simone giggle and fluster awkwardly, turning her back to him, still laughing from his and her nerves, for a moment there’s a bit of relief between the two. —Even though my suspicions… I still wanted to… — She confesses without looking at him, in the tinniest tone she could find. —And… is not like you can nag me about it… you replied my kiss after all… — The girl continues but this time, her tone elevates, happier, girly, there’s a pause between them, this time no longer awkward, Emil goes back to the living room without sharing another word, Simone followed from behind with a tiny smile.

—You took a while! — Samuel shouts extending his arms and welcoming the two back into the table. —Let’s play poker now! I know you always have some good cash in your pockets Emil! — He suggest in a funny tone, Simone giving a sarcastic stare to the drunk man. —I… I may have some but… we can play poker any time, let’s play something new now. — The man explained collecting the cards and shuffling them quickly, tapping the edge of the maze against the table, Samuel looking intrigued, Veronica just minding to pick the bigger before anyone else, just to find out Simone already beat her at that. —Something new? Like what exactly? — the drunk one asks disappointed. —Well… let’s find out, shall we? — Emil replies malicious, slowly handing the maze of cards in front of Simone, —why don’t you create a card game for us, Mushroom? —

—Emil… the heck are you saying? People can’t create a game just because! —

—Don’t worry Vero, right? Mushroom? —

—I’m not sure… —

—C’mon Emil stop bullying the girl like that, let’s just play poker like I said—

—Wait! I… I’ll try… —

—Really? No need to do what he wants —

—The maze has 48 cards excluding the Jokers, 4 sets of 13 different cards… —

—Erhm, girl, you hear me? —

—Give her a moment Samuel… —

—You can’t create a game just like that… is absurd… —

—We are four people, 2 men and 2 women… a game for the 4 of us to play… —

—Sweetie, you are going to be stuck on that thought all night, just give me back the cards and… —

—Shut it, I’m thinking! —

—Wow… —

—Haha! Looks like the girl is taking it seriously Sam! —

—We are 4 people… a game of cards for the 4 of us to play… 4 people… 2 pairs… couples… lo… lovers —

—Lovers? —

— _Lover’s Talk_ … This game is called _Lover’s Talk_ … I’m going to explain the rules now, ok? —

—Wait what? Seriously? —

—Emil, what kind of joke is this? She obviously already knew what to play —

—Not a joke, never heard of this game, and you Vero? —

—… —

—Ok then, let’s suppose we believe you and you just made a new card game; continue —

—The game is simple… there’s four cards in the table… —

4 7 11 3

—And each one of us gets 2 cards per each one of the table, 8 cards each person —

—Ok that doesn’t explain anything, how do we play? —

— _Lover’s Talk_ is a couple’s game, we don’t look to win ourselves or to make someone lose first, we try to win as a couple, so I’ll be playing with… Emil and you two can play together —

—Yay… tied together even in games, no Sam? —

—Let me tell you sweetie, if it’s a couple game I’m not going to let Veronica lose —

—What’s next Mushroom? —

—We play our cards… Samuel and Veronica can go first, from left to right starting with the “4” we put matching cards of color or type in front of it, everyone play two cards and the couple with the biggest number wins —

—And then we have to win the other 3 cards too? —

—Yes —

—What if we run out of matching cards? —

—We can use cards of different color and type too, but that would be _lying_ —

—Excuse me what? —

—You can freely add a card to the “4” of hearts of different color or type, but if you win that way, it means you win by _lying_ , if you win using matching cards, then you win by using the _truth_ —

—What happens if you win by _lying_? —

—You have to say a lie about someone of the couple you’re playing against, if you win with the truth, you say a compliment about your couple —

—I don’t think I’d like this game… —

—Don’t worry Veronica, it doesn’t have to be hurtful lies, just silly simple things like “Emil’s feet stink” —

—Hey now —

—Oh, hahaha! Ok That makes it funnier, let me in! —

—Alright, you can go first, choose a card and then Emil plays a card, then Samuel, and lastly me —

(2)4 7 11 3

—Like this? A 2 of hearts matches the 4 so is a… truth? —

—Yeah exactly, now Emil —

(2)4(10) 7 11 3

—Wow Emil is pulling punches here —

(12+2)4(10) 7 11 3

—But Sam… that 12 is black —

—Don’t worry darling I have everything measured —

—Well, I guess there’s no point to fight for this one —

(12+2)4(10+3) 7 11 3

—HAHA! We won… So, what was again? —

—You say a lie about one of us to the other person of that couple —

—Well then Simone… Emil’s feet fucking stink —

—I don’t even understand why it has to be about my feet… —

—Well, now that you won by _lying_ , the second card we used gets flipped down, at the end of the game, we sum the totals, the couple with more points wins —

—So then Mushroom, if a couple doesn’t have enough matching cards in both hands, they can win by lying since it reduces the other couple’s points —

—Exactly —

—That’s one weird way to win… —

—Definitely only a game Mushroom would create —

—Uhm, let’s keep at it is getting interesting —

(5+12+2)4(10+X) 7 11 3

(5+12+2)4(10+X+7) 7 11 3

(6+5+12+2)4(10+X+7) 7 11 3

(6+5+12+2)4(10+X+7+12) 7 11 3

—That gives you guys 25 and us… 29! We win this round! —

—So you won with the _truth_? See Sam? We should be doing the same! —

—Yeah yeah any soon… we move to the “7” now? —

—No, no, Simone put that “12” and won so now she has to compliment Emil! —

—Wait… Crap —

—Haha! Your game your rules! —

—I… I like Emil’s beard… —

—…—

—Oooh, that’s such a girl bulls eye isn’t it? It makes him look so mature and serious! —

—Hey Vero… I’m still here —

—C’mon Sam if you are jealous you can always grew a beard too! —

—Sure… —

(25)4(X+29) (4)7 11 3

(25)4(X+29) (4)7(2) 11 3

(25)4(X+29) (8+4)7(2) 11 3

(25)4(X+29) (8+4)7(2+10) 11 3

—Really Sam? Another lie? —

—And what if? Is funnier this way —

—Sam… And look, this time we both did “12”, how do we decide who wins? —

—If the total is the same in both sides, the one who lies always win —

—Nice! See Vero? —

—Uhm… —

—Simone, Emil’s beard is made from his pubes! —

—Oh c’mon now! Why it has to be about me? —

(25)4(X+29) (11+8+4)7(2+X) 11 3

(25)4(X+29) (11+8+4)7(2+X+9) 11 3

(25)4(X+29) (6+11+8+4)7(2+X+9) 11 3

(25)4(X+29) (6+11+8+4)7(2+X+9+5) 11 3

—“29” and “16” We won again, this time saying the _truth_ , are you happy now Vero? —

—Only because I kept throwing matching cards… —

—Actually, you won with a lie at the first time, so you’re still winning by lying —

—Seriously now, this midget… —

—Samuel! —

—Oh… Sorry Emil… —

—You have to say another lie now —

—Urgh, fine!! Rebecca cheated on Emil with me once! —

—...Sam? —

—Hey now… —

—C’mon, no need to get nervous is a lie! —

—Sure of that Sam? —

—Of course! I only have eyes for you my love —

—…—

—C’mon, Emil doesn’t mind it, right? —

—Not at all, I know is a lie, let’s keep playing —

—Right on my dude —

(25)4(X+29) (29)7(X+16) (3)11 3

(25)4(X+29) (29)7(X+16) (3)11(7) 3

(25)4(X+29) (29)7(X+16) (5+3)11(7+1) 3

—Emil that is a different color… —

—Oh, Emil’s getting nasty! —

—We both have “8” but this time we win by lying… Veronica? Samuel proposed to Rebecca first and later you —

—Dude… c’mon… is that a comeback from before? I told you it was a lie! —

—I know is a lie, Rebecca never paid attention to you after all, you on the other hand… —

—Dude… —

—See Sam? I’ve told you many times of your bad jokes —

—Ok fine, my bad, still, you didn’t have to go that far —

—He isn’t so wrong about it though —

—… Veronica? —

—Rebecca was always your first crush… I had to fight to catch your attention —

—Veronica… —

—Erhm guys? The point is for the lies to be funny ok? Let’s continue and clear the air! —

—Yeah let’s continue… —

(25)4(X+29) (29)7(X+16) (3+X+3)11(7+1) 3

(25)4(X+29) (29)7(X+16) (3+X+3)11(7+1+2) 3

(25)4(X+29) (29)7(X+16) (12+3+X+3)11(7+1+2) 3

(25)4(X+29) (29)7(X+16) (12+3+X+3)11(7+1+2+12) 3

—“18” against “22”, but we went back to lying so… —

—Yeah, you say a lie and flip our last card down, that makes “10” and you win this round too —

—Sam, I don’t want to play this game anymore —

—Veronica? —

—Did you place those cards to say another horrible lie right? —

—And what if?! —

—Simone, tell us, what happens at the final card? —

—It depends on who wins and by what method —

—Let’s say Samuel and I win again by lying —

—If you win by lying at the final card, you flip down two of our cards down each time —

—But that would give you guys 0 points, right? We would win by a landslide in totals too...—

—Yes, but you need to quote all of the lies you’ve said up to this moment for it —

—Oh c’mon, you didn’t tell us we had to memorize our lies! —

—That’s the point of winning by _lying_ , right, Simone? —

—Wait what do you mean? —

—That’s right Veronica, remembering lies is harder than remembering compliments, lies are fake, compliments come from the heart, _Lover’s Talk_ is a game that punishes you for attempting to win with lies and rewards you for saying the truth —

—So we were doomed from the start, I can’t remember what was Samuel’s first lie, to begin with… —

—… —

—I’m honestly impressed, Mushroom —

—If you can’t remember all the lies, you lose all your points down to 0, meanwhile, if you win by saying the truth, and you quote all the truths, all your flipped down cards, if any, go back up, and those numbers are added to the totals —

—… And… and you say you made this game yourself? Just 20 minutes ago? —

—Uhum… I guess… I guess I did… —

—Emil… where in the world did you find this girl? —

—Well, it's a long story… —

In the middle of an interrupted game, laughs and compliments to Simone are shared, but Samuel is still mad. When Veronica tries to calm him down, the man explodes and begins to release his rage against Emil, talking about how different everything would be if Rebecca had accepted his proposition, destroying the heart of the confused and drunk Veronica. Between screams and scratches of sharp nails, Samuel covers his head with his arms to stand the hits of the demon he released inside Veronica, and running away from the house Veronica followed him with foam on her mouth, as Emil silently begins to pick up the trash and mess left from the fight, Simone looks at the whole scene from the terrace with a delightful look, even more as she sees Veronica pick the beach Jeep of Samuel and drive away while crying, the man with sand on his face and arms with bleeding scars of her nails, runs behind the Jeep trying to get a hold of his girlfriend, disappearing into the distance. —Would you at least pretend they worry you? — Emil tells her with a disgusted look, joining her on the terrace. —But I don’t? — Simone replies with a forced, innocent tone, —I still can't believe it… I just… created a card game out of the blue… — She whispers with a different smile, almost blushing, her sight moving up into the starry night, —This day has been so crazy… — She now turns to the man, smiling to him —Up to now… I’ve been feeling so lost but you… you just go and tell me to do something… and I just… without even catching a break. — Walking towards him, slowly holding on his hands, —How? Just how are you able to make me use my imagination this way? I’m just creating so many new things and I’m doing it so easy! — She shouts energetic, but Emil has stayed serious all the time, keeping silence, the girl tilts her head confused. —… Emil? — After a shake of his head and his usual nervous tic, he finally speaks. —I haven’t done anything, is the work of you and you alone, just because I’ve told you what to do doesn’t make me the author of your creations. — He explains with a tender smile, but by his surprise, the girl looks down on the floor and releases his hands furious. —Lies… aren’t I a mushroom after all? This has to be something like the mind trick you do with your paintings… —

In the silence of the night, the man closes the gap between the two of them, embracing the girl with his arms and slowly rubbing her back. —No… stop it…— Simone whispers awkwardly. —You are filled with infinite potential, dropping your administration career in college was the correct thing, your vocation is the arts, you must put a use to your ability to create the most magnificent script plays anyone can imagine, I know you’ll be a great artist. — He continues on his encouraging, but the girl just screeches, each time madder, her arms fighting with all her might to be separated from that hug, she’s at the verge of tears, running back inside of the house, Emil slowly following her. —Mush… I’m not lying to you… I don’t need to, I’m sure of all of that, you can obtain a life where your works and the things you love doing are the same thing. — Worried of her reactions he continues explaining, but before the girl reaches to the kitchen she turns back with a fierce look on her face. —I’m going back to college when you take me back with my parents… — Emil frowns, his loud sighs shows his anger. —Why would you do that? You spent four years there unable to graduate because you couldn’t meet the college standards! —He yells still not as mad as the girl. —Well, _Daddy_ , the answer for that is simple and is because that’s how life is, or as mom says, _“In this world, you don’t have that many chances in life”!_ — Full of anger and sarcasm she extends her arms, blowing air out of her mouth pretending to release a bomb, Emil is getting furious. —And what about all you have been doing since we were living together? What about today? Do you need more signals that this is the correct path to take!? — He swifts his arm aggressively, the girl reacting by stepping back a little scared, then getting mad again. —You just don’t get it! Nothing of what has happened this week matters if you are going to send me back with my parents tomorrow! — Her first tears begin to pour from her eyes, this time Emil is unable to reply, —You don’t understand what is the life I was having… How narrow are the options to take! Do you want to know how do we live in that house?! — Her question, filled more than rage than sarcasm, makes the man be the one who takes a step back, —The door of my room _needs_ to be pushed to one side so it can be opened, our shower _needs_ to be open in a _certain way_ for the water to come out! The back door doesn’t entirely close and instead of solving all of that we just put a bell near so if somebody goes inside in the middle of the night, the ringing will tell us! Amazing right?! — She raises her fingers and laughs in a horrible and, break-heartening way, —And that’s just the tip of the iceberg, and you know why we live like that right? Say it! I know you can tell, say it! — She screams like a beast, the man takes a minute and sighs. —It's called conformity… — he whispers while looking down, Simone releasing another explosion-like sound with her mouth. —Conformity! That’s my everyday life! That’s the life of every, thousand, millions, of people, living in this world, who can’t, and won’t have, the chance to aim higher! — Every word filled with powerful hand gestures, grinding her teeth, aggressively pointing at the floor at every comma —But then you appear one day, you take me out of that misery and send me into these weird as hell vacations to show me there’s a better world, you and Rebecca cheered me up, you cut my hair, gave me a personality, gave me reasons to use my skills, and what for!? To send me back home after a couple of weeks?! Do you have any idea of what is going to happen if you send me back home!? — Emil remains speechless, he just does his best to keep his composure, crossing his arms and staying firm, —I’m going back to be the depressed, miserable and self-loathing girl I was when you found me, and do you want to know why?! — She pauses, her face a mess of tears and snot, her lower lip shaking like an earthquake, — Because having low expectations, and keeping your mind in the ground, is the best way to take advantage of your average life! — She concludes in an immense, powerful scream, turning to the table and kicking it's post, hurting herself from the hit and screaming from the pain, prostrating on the floor and crying. After ten long minutes, Emil drops his stance and walks to the small bump crying in the floor of the living room, kneeling and petting her head —…Why can’t you just get angry with me…? —She wonders in a broken voice, breathing hard and loudly, —Do you think just because you are my father you have to forgive everything I do? — She asks again, but the man just takes a step closer, brushing the back of her head with his fingers, and then slowly hugging her from behind. —If only you could understand… how amazed I was to see you release all that fear that was holding you back… how amazed I was to see you verbalize away everything that has been holding you down… — He whispers into her ear, Simone’s crying slowly stopping, her hands looking for his and reuniting. —Why… why did I have to meet someone as kind as you… just to lose you and never see you again? — She wonders in her crackly tone, slowly turning her face to him, Emil giving her a small smile, using his shirt to clean her face, slowly, looking at each other, sharing a kiss on the lips —I wish I could have you forever… I wish Rebecca wouldn’t take you away from me… that mom would allow us to see each other more than these two weeks.— She confesses with a bittersweet smile and crying again. —But that’s how things were meant to be, Simone, we need to go back to our lives, and you need to fight for yours — He explains, holding her face with both hands, kissing her softly, —You have to find a way to be happy, that’s the only thing that matters, but you’ll have to do it without me — The man finishes with a bitter pause, the girl looks down and squirms, coughing in her attempt to retain her desire to cry. —You called me by my name… you finally did… — she whispers with a little energy. —Because you’re no longer a mushroom, you are finally what you are meant to be, you are Simone. — He tells her rubbing her back with a smile, unaware of the beast he has released.

Slowly approaching her head to his chest, lifting her face to slowly kiss his chin, kissing him on the lips, again and again, slowly leaning on him and holding on his shoulders; the weight of her body slightly pushing him on the floor. — But it's not fair… is not enough… — She whispers and holds on his face, looking at him with an obsessed look, confusing him, —I just wish I could have more… more your morning kisses so I can feel your raspy beard, more of your coffee because you brew it so well, more of the way you play with my hair when you are distracted, it makes me feel on the clouds, I love it. — Her voice slowly recovering strength, her legs fixing on his waist, —I want more of your serious look when you try to cheer me up, I want more of your kind gestures that no one else could give, I want more of the little details you can make out of a day and that other people can’t. — her face hiding on his neck, her lower half trying to take the bravery to grind against his pelvis, —I want to know how you look naked, I want to feel your heavy breathing on the back of my neck as you thrust me from behind, I want you to tell me to put it on my mouth, I want your sweat, your grunts as you pound me, I want everything about you, Emil, I wish I could have it —She concluded, softly crying and shyly holding on his neck, embracing each other in silence.

Deep in the darkness of the night and out of the beach, Emil makes space on the sand to light a fire. The girl joining time later with her arms filled with cans of many types, spoons and a can opener, sitting with him in silence, handing him the opener so he could force the cans, eating quietly in the sounds of the fathoms, the crashing waves, the gentle but cold breeze filled with the spray of ocean water, and the munching and slurping noises of a girl who has completely forgotten how to eat with her mouth closed. After seven cans are totally emptied, and a bottle of white chocolate rum is half emptied, with their stomach full, they lay down on a blanket watching the stars, joining hands, wrapping their fingers together. —Say… how awkward is everything now? Between the two of us? — Simone wonders with an awkward giggle. —There’s… is our last weekend together… I won’t let your confession stop me from being with you. —The man answers playing with her fingertips, then Simone gets up all serious and stands, slowly taking off her shoes. —My confession wasn’t just to vent… I meant it… Everything… I’m sober enough to know it.— She’s all serious, removing her stockings, then her hairpins and necklace before Emil can say any other thing, she removes her sweater and her bra with detailed speed, —Let’s swim naked on the beach, and after that, we are going to do it, if you let me alone in that beach I won’t forgive you. —She finishes with a death stare, pulling down her shorts and panties, her naked body basked in the lights of the fire, the moon and the stars, her figure captivating the eyes of the man, jumping inside the waters and coming out again after a couple of meters, laughing nervous from the cold, fixing her hair out of her face as it gets soaked, her chest bouncing with grace when she tries to keep balance with the waves coming her way, smiling wide when looking back at the shore and finding out an incoming, naked man, silently walking towards her inside the water, Siemone shyly holding on his member with a hand and a naughty smile, sharing a kiss, jumping on his arms and kissing him wildly, the man holding her by the thighs and ass and replying to her kiss, both of them falling and laughing in the water as a wave makes them stumble. With gentle kisses over his chest, Simone pretends to wake up Emil the morning after, both of them wrapped in the blanket, they have spent the night on the beach, the man takes a couple of minutes to wake up, sharing a deep and long kiss when their eyes meet, the girl giggling and hugging him tight by the neck. —You were… so big and so strong… and yet you treated me with so much tenderness… always looking to don’t hurt me or startle me… how is that even in sex you’re so kind? — She says and wonders with a burst of naughty laughter, the man sighing all flustered. —Would you not use your narration ability for this? — He replies uncomfortable, Simone laughing louder, then closing her eyes and burying her face on his chest. —Is it too much to ask you to continue like this until the afternoon? — She asks with a total mood swing, clear fear, and sadness on her voice, the man does nothing but hold her tight and kiss her forehead.

The morning passes by between kisses and orgasms until the bitter afternoon. Handing her the keys of the bike, Emil suggests gifting the monstrous bike to her if she manages to take them both unscratched to the city. —I don't need it that much, it can be yours if you don't crash it on the way. — He suggests with sarcasm, but the girl just looks up at him with a terrifying look, gulping down saliva she wears the gauntlets and helmet, somehow calming down a little when feeling Emil embrace her from behind, it is but one long odyssey filled with immense screams coming from the girl and exhausted sighs of the man as he has to jump and take control of the steer repeatedly; he still let her keep with the keys once back into the city. Unable to continue in their extreme display of love back in the apartment with Rebecca in the middle, who scolded Emil after getting a call from Veronica. The next day was Monday and just to make sure the bike remained in perfect state, he drove Simone back to her neighborhood, cries and screams of sadness all the way, unable to comfort her, to pacify her, he hugged her as tight as possible, kissed her on the forehead, and left her by her own, walking away on the sidewalk of the long street, all the neighbors and people near coming out of their houses curious, as Simone's parents tried to pull her inside the house, the girl cried her heart out, piercing everyone's ears, just as she had lost a limb, just as if she had seen her own death.

February starts cold and silent, but the routines in Simone's house have changed entirely, an active and serious girl quickly appears on the kitchen with a backpack on her back, looking for a victim to satiate her desire to breakfast. —Hey Sid... this man is on the newspapers with one of his horrible paintings again — Her father bitterly explains when reading from his tablet, the girl silently stopping on her hunting of the stalls, slowing down her hurry and shrinking. —Just what are you doing? You know she can't hear about him, she gets all upset! —Her mom mumbles with anger grinding of her teeth from the other side of the kitchen. —It's your fault for letting her meet that man, what were you thinking when you did that? — He replied loudly and annoyed at the idea of Emil, Simone, slowly rubbing the skull hairpins turns back to her father and walks to the table. —Can I see? —She asks a bit reluctant, the man looks back at her mother then back at the girl, quietly handing her the tablet. Fiddling on the scream her lips move as she reads the text on the news, then when zooming the picture attached to the article she shouts a loud screech startling the other two. The painting was titled _"From The Village of Mushrooms"_ and in the canvas was painted the figure of a woman which left half was disfigured from the growing of mushrooms from her face down to her body, anchoring her on the floor, while the right half, still healthy and intact, tried to pick a mushroom sprouting from a dead tree on an attempt to devour it, Simone was a mess of laughter and tears, their parents felt confused on what to do, but then she just left the tablet back with the man and ran away from the kitchen to the garage where the bike was waiting for her. Cleaning her face and bringing her backpack, bringing a thick ram of sheets from it, all tied together with staples, the title _"A Letter From A Mushroom"_ writen with a black marker, she snorts with a bittersweet smile as she rubs a finger over the letters. —I can't believe you beat me on the title... are you trying to purify me? Just what am I suppose to do with this script about our story now? —


End file.
